


What You Didn't Deserve

by TokyoTeddyWolf



Series: Time To Rest, Children (DSMP) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dream gets fuckin BEAT, Feral Wilbur Soot, Major Character Injury, Mentioned Others - Freeform, Mexican Dream - Freeform, Mumza as death, Sbi dynamic, THEY'RE SIBLINGS YOUR HONOR, Tommy needs a hug, Winged Wilbur Soot, Yes i did my own art for this nobody said i fuckin couldnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:49:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29814213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TokyoTeddyWolf/pseuds/TokyoTeddyWolf
Summary: I'm sorry you had gotten so unluckyThis time aroundHow I'm wishing you a better farewell...-The Things I Deserve by GHOSTTommy shouldn't be here, shaking and looking like a broken porcelain doll, so blood-soaked his white-red shirt was simply red now.Wilbur is furious.Dream is going topay,even if he has to kick that bastard's ass himself.Lucky him, he gets that chance with help from a friendly Mexican and a tired goat man. And maybe even Death herself.(Aka let Alivebur come back and go feral please.)
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Time To Rest, Children (DSMP) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198028
Comments: 40
Kudos: 573





	What You Didn't Deserve

It's tiring here, in the void, with nothing but raucous laughter, salsa music, and the smell of cigarette smoke.  
  
At least it gives Wilbur time to think, to process his life, and with more clarity than he'd had in a long time. And time didn't exactly move linearly here, so he had plenty of said time to think.  
  
Dying would do that, wouldn't it. Figures the one thing to cure him of insanity would be to sit in a room and talk about it, and then get firmly told off that he was an idiot. Only in death, since he couldn't exactly escape from here.  
  
"Oh shit, we got a newbie guys." Schlatt drawled, feet up on the little poker table they were currently at.  
  
It happened, sometimes, a soul would pass through and chat before moving on. To respawn or to a different server, they didn't really know. Schlatt had stayed out of self imposed exile, he claimed, refusing to respawn. Mexican Dream had stayed for the fun of annoying Schlatt.  
  
And Wilbur?  
  
Well, he supposed it was just guilt that tied him here now, refusing to move on and restart in a new server, ashamed of how he had treated friends and family alike over a _drug van._ L'Manberg would never be reborn, so why should he? It wouldn't be fair.  
  
And yet he couldn't help but choke, cards clattering to the table, as the one person he never wanted to see through here again came popping out of the portal.  
  
It wasn't really a portal per say, but a tiny ripple in the wall of the little afterlife they were in before someone gave them a gentle shove through.  
  
(Wilbur had met her once, Death, she was a very nice lady and preferred to be called Kristin. She had simply smiled at him when he'd asked to stay, and nodded. She even stopped by for tea on occasion.)

Blonde hair, blood drenching it pinkish red, wobbling like they couldn't hold themselves up, arms tucked over what he assumed were broken ribs, more blood dripping from his face and just- not... _stopping._  
  
"Holy shit kid, what'd they _do_ to you?" Schlatt muttered, horrified, even as Wilbur shoved out of his chair and ran over. He faintly could hear Mexi-Dream's rapid Spanish, a familiar prayer for the horribly beaten boy.  
  
"Tommy?" He called, fearful and near tears at the sight of his baby brother looking like he'd been put through a meat tenderizer.  
  
Blue eyes ~~( _one was blackened and bleeding, like weeping tears, mixing with saltwater already there, who could have-_ )~~ blinked slowly at Wilbur as he stumbled to a stop and gently took him by the shoulders, eyes flicking over the wounds and bruises and blood-  
  
Why was there so much fucking blood?!?  
  
"Wilbur?" Tommy croaked, as if he didn't quite believe his brother was there.  
  
"Yeah, it's me, Toms. You're gonna be okay, I'm here." Wilbur soothed, wiping away the blood and tears from the kid's face with his sleeve.  
  
"I don't- how are _you_ \- I was, I was in the prison with Dr- with, but you're, where _am I,_ Wilby? It hurts." Tommy sniffled, fresh tears tracking down his face.  
  
"Shh, I know, it won't hurt for very long, I promise. It goes away." Wilbur said, patiently wiping away more of the tears.  
  
"What the hell happened, Tomas? You look tenderized, _mi hermano_!" Mexi-Dream's voice joined next to Wilbur, the man's mask shoved up to get a better look.  
  
"I-I don't know. I- The prison, I got trapped, D-Dream was there and I- he was so _angry,_ I just w-wanted to annoy him, and then he- he-" Tommy started hyperventilating, trembling with wide eyes as he pulled his hands up to his throat and gagged.  
  
"No, no, Tommy, _look at me_ , he can't reach you here, nobody can touch you again, okay? _I won't let them._ I'm here, Tommy. Breathe with me. You can do that, yeah? Nobody is going to hurt you here. In, one, two, three, out, one, two, three. Keep going, buddy." Wilbur crooned, gently pulling the blonde's hands away from his neck and passing his thumbs over the backs of those bruised, bloodied knuckles.  
  
"He said- He had the Resurrection Book, Wilbur, he s-said he would just b-bring me back, I don't want to, please, I don't w-wanna go back-" Tommy sobbed, collapsing into his brother's arms, Schlatt muttering a curse under his breath.  
  
"Fuck, I forgot I gave him that damn thing. Wilbur, if Dream uses that book, Tommy is gonna respawn no matter what. It fucks with people's souls, snatches 'em right back from wherever they're goin' and stuffs 'em back in their old body. In the state he's in, he wouldn't survive without immediate care." The ram growled, tapping his foot angrily.  
  
"What? The fuck you mean by that, _cabro_? It doesn't heal him so he won't die again?" Mexi-Dream glanced back at his poker buddy, frowning.  
  
"Barely. Takes away the fatal wound that did him in, sure, but doesn't heal the rest. They way he looks? He's obviously got more than _one_ broken bone and all that blood came from _somewhere_. He'd just die again from something else, and the fucked up thing is I think Dream _knows_ that." Schlatt snarled, looking more pissed than Wilbur had ever seen him.  
  
"You don't look too happy, goat-man, thought you hated me and Tommy here." Wilbur muttered angrily, hugging his sobbing brother tight.  
  
"Look, I may despise the trouble you caused when I was doin' my whole dictator bullshit, but _nobody_ deserves to die that fuckin' brutally." Schlatt frowned, arms folded over his chest defensively.  
  
"Yeah, and I thought the way I died was fucked up, _ese bastardo_." Mexi-Dream said, though the look on his face suggested he would be all too happy to snap said bastard in half.  
  
"Wi-Wilbur, something's _pulling_ me, it feels so wrong- help me, _please_ , I can't go back, don't make me go back-" Tommy wailed, gripping his brother like a lifeline.  
  
"Shit, _already_? Hang in there kid, don't follow the pull, okay?" Schlatt barked, standing up from his seat.  
  
Tommy's body started flickering, fighting to stay in the void as the revival magic tugged and pulled, impatient.  
  
"You got this, _hermano_ , keep fighting. Don't let him win!" Mexi-Dream shouted, pressing his hand against Tommy's back.  
  
"I-I _can't_! I don't want to but it hurts, it _really_ hurts! I c-can't fight it, W-Wilbur, please, I'm- I'm r-really fuckin' scared, he'll just kill me again, I-" Tommy gurgled, strained thin from both the void and the revival magic pulling at him to go yet stay.

"I- Fuck it, if there's no other choice, I'm going with you." Wilbur growled, remembering how Ghostbur had pulled Schlatt back to the land of the living and intending on doing the same.  
  
He heard the rustle of wings, a black feather drifting in front of his vision, Death's angry whisper in his ear, and he grinned. Schlatt and Mexi-Dream's voices faded out as something rippled along his back, and the void faded to white as Tommy wailed.  
  
_Get that fucker, Wilbur, give him hell!_  
  
_Rasgar ese culo uno nuevo, hermano!_  
  
_Go forth, my little fallen angel, avenge the death that should not be._

* * *

Tommy woke up and coughed, choking on his own blood. Everything hurt, why did everything hurt so _badly_? Wilbur had said it would go away, right? Why was he still-  
  
"See, Tommy? I told you, I can even control whoever lives and dies. A God of this server." Dream's voice was smug, and Tommy's breath hitched.  
  
No, no, _nononono please he wants to go back, he wants his brother again, please don't leave him here with his murderer-_  
  
And then there's a startled shriek, a loud thunk and a crash, and someone yelling. It's angry and full of firey hatred, and had he paid attention, the yell would have been familiar.  
  
" _STAY AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!"_ The new voice roars, and faintly Tommy can see black feathers at the far wall, with a hint of someone green underneath, pinned.  
  
A door slams open, there's more shouting and yelling, but the first person Tommy registers is a frantic Ranboo, a health potion shaking in his hand as he splashes it over Tommy's body. There's other people in the room now, he vaguely recognizes Sam joining the black feathers against the green, someone is crying loudly, and there are hands, warm against his cooled face.  
  
He's not in the prison. Where _is_ he? He can't form the words to say. He's still drowning in blood, but he can't feel a lot of pain anymore. Someone's doing compressions on his chest, the rhythm almost soothing, and then he rolls over and coughs up the blood blocking his lungs, red splattering the wooden floors.  
  
He's pretty sure the chunks in his blood are pieces of lung, or maybe just clotted blood, congealed in the back of his throat for who knows how long. How long had he been dead? How long had he been outside the prison? How long had people mourned him for before Dream brought him back?  
  
How long had that scuffle been going on for?  
  
Tubbo. Hey, it was Tubbo! That- Wait, Tubbo hated him, right? Was angry 'n stuff. For- For what? No he didn't, they apologized, right? What had happened again..? Tubbo was cryin' though, lookin' absolutely wrecked, hands pressed to Tommy's face, keeping him steady as he choked and spat through the clots in his airway.  
  
A regen pot was pressed against his lips, and he painfully swallowed the drink, feeling relief spread through his body along with a bone-deep exhaustion. His head was clearer, he could breathe again, but he was so _tired._  
  
There was a shout and then a scream, and a sickening _crunch_ that Tommy knew all too familiarly.  
  
After all, he'd died of a broken neck too.  
  
His eyes slowly pan over to the feathers and the green, and the green isn't moving. His head is far too floppy, eyes vacant, mask in pieces and even a few embedded in his face. Blood trickles out of a slack mouth in a steady drizzle, and no life at all is left.  
  
Respawning doesn't usually take that long, right?  
  
( _Somewhere, Dream wakes up in a void, and is greeted with a fist to the face again. He swears he hears salsa music, and wonders where it's coming from before a second fist comes out of left field and cracks his jaw._  
  
_Death watches and just smiles serenely. She'll let him respawn... eventually. How unfortunate his last respawn point was that prison bed..._ )  
  
Suddenly Tubbo is gone and Wilbur is there, hands running soothingly through his hair and murmuring something Tommy can't quite hear.  
  
Blood is splattered over his face, and his hands are rough but warm, and Tommy tears up for the fourth time since he was killed and just throws his whole body into his brother, sobbing.  
  
Wilbur shushes him and hums, a tune oddly reminiscent of Cat, just holding him. A curtain of feathers hides them from the others, and its just Tommy, Wilbur, and Cat.  
  
Tommy doesn't remember passing out, but he does know he's felt safer than he has in a long time.

* * *

"So."  
  
Wilbur does not move, standing guard at Tommy's side.  
  
They've moved to the hotel Tommy had made, the kid sleeping off the worst of it all in a warm bed, covered in more bandages than really necessary.  
  
His new wings itch. A gift from Lady Death, a sort of fallen angel like Philza, sent to protect his brother from the crazed madman who had been causing far too much damage than Death had liked. The feathers are soft and black, like baby bird down, yet the flight feathers are strong and supple. He hasn't tried flying yet, hasn't needed to. He will not leave his brother again.  
  
"So." He responds calmly, arms folded as he glares at the few people in the room across from them.  
  
Tubbo hasn't stopped sniffling, as close as he can get to Tommy without Wilbur fluffing up dangerously. Ranboo has an arm over his shoulders, rubbing at his friend's scalp comfortingly. Puffy and Sam are glancing between Wilbur and Tommy, looking for all the world like they want to scoop up the boy and take him home like a lost pet. The only few allowed in before Wilbur had started hissing like a creeper ready to explode.  
  
It's surprisingly Quackity who has spoken, calm and collected but Wilbur doesn't miss the way his hands are trembling.  
  
"Why are you back? Dream said he was only reviving Tommy. A trade for being let out of prison." The vice president asked, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide how they shook.  
  
"A _stupid_ trade. Tommy would have just died again if you'd trusted Dream. I came back to protect Tommy. Simple as that." Wilbur said, still glaring.  
  
"What do you mean, he'd have died again? He should have been healed from what killed him, right?" Puffy asked quietly, glancing from the way Tubbo flinched, how Ranboo exhaled sharply, Sam's sudden tensing, to the way Wilbur's glower darkened exponentially.  
  
"Exactly. Healed from what killed him." Wilbur said lowly, voice a near growl.  
  
"It didn't heal the rest of him, Puffy." Sam explained softly.  
  
"I was really glad I brought those healing and regen pots, something was off with what Dream was saying. I wrote it down and only realized it a bit later, when he was doing the ritual." Ranboo spoke up, eyes looking everywhere but his friends.  
  
"When Tommy wakes up, you should all apologize. You left a defenseless child alone for far too long, and knew he was in that place with his abuser and did _nothing._ Once he's better, we're leaving." Wilbur growled, feathers fluffed in agitation.

Voices rose in protest before the door slammed open.  
  
Philza, looking more ruffled and harried than he had ever been in his life, hand still pressed flat against the door, wings askew and panting like he'd run the whole way here. He probably had, knowing him.  
  
" _Will_." The Angel of Death choked, eyes watering.  
  
Wilbur blinked, lowering his aggression and shuffling nervously, looking away.  
  
"Hey, Phil. Long time no see?" He tried, offering an awkward smile, before he was engulfed in a hug, a battered, damaged set of wings wrapping him up.  
  
"Oof- Geeze, Phil, you think you'd've seen a ghost or something." Wilbur chuckled, hugging his father figure back.  
  
"You fucking _bastard_ , you come back and I have to hear about it hours later because someone had the hindsight to send me a goddamn letter _after the fact!_ " Phil yelled, though his eyes were shut and he had practically strangled his son in a hug.  
  
"It wasn't exactly a planned thing, Phil. My main priority was beating the shit out of Dream, rather than telling people I was back." Wilbur said, patting Phil's back.  
  
"Fair point, also valid." Techno piped up from the doorway, sword suspiciously bloody in its sheath.  
  
(He had paid a... _friendly visit_ , to Dream once he'd respawned. No more favors, no more control, Tommy may have been a massive pain but he was still just a _kid_. Dying like that was no way for brash, bold, fearless Tommy to go out. Kid would have burned the whole world down before he went.  
  
To be murdered in cold blood, not even fighting back, trapped with his abuser, Techno had been furious enough to let Dream suffer a bit before he died again. He'd heard from Philza that Death was a patient woman, and hoped she tormented the hell out of Dream before he came back.)  
  
"Hey, Techno." Wilbur called softly, currently trapped in Phil's hug.  
  
"Hey, Will." Techno greeted back quietly, hand raised in an awkward half wave.  
  
"I think a family meeting is in order." Phil said.

* * *

Tommy woke up with the worst morning breath he honestly thought could be possible.  
  
Like he'd chewed on a stack of pennies, then walked right through Ghostbur while drinking seltzer water. His mouth felt dusty and dry but also gritty, and he decided he absolutely _hated_ this.  
  
It didn't help that he felt as if his eyes were gonna fall out from how achy they were, and his body was sore like he'd gotten hit by a shovel in the chest.  
  
He reluctantly blinked awake, the room dimmed and warm, and for a minute he thought he was back in the void again.  
  
"Tommy? You good there, bud?" A familiar voice asked quietly, and for a moment Tommy thought it was Phil with the way the first thing he saw were black feathers.  
  
But then his eyes focused, and it was brown hair, not blonde, brown eyes, not blue, but the worry was still there.  
  
"Wilby? Th' f'k-" Tommy mumbled, tongue heavy and unwieldy in his mouth.  
  
"Easy, Toms, stay down, okay? You're still healing up those broken ribs." Wilbur said, running his fingers soothingly through his brother's blonde hair.  
  
"Don't hurt. Y' didn't lie." The teen muttered, eyes sliding shut.  
  
"Ah, you remember the void then. Damn." Wilbur chuckled, though it was strained and tired.  
  
Tommy opened his eyes again and squinted, blinking to clear them.  
  
"Y' look like shit, Wilbur." He commented, and it was true.  
  
It was the body he'd had before his last death, ( ~~ _she couldn't give him anything else, she had no control over that_~~ ) trenchcoat and beanie and soot-stained dusty shirt and pants.  
  
"Th' wings 'r new." Tommy amended, noting the grimace on his brother's face, and the way the fluffy things were awkwardly folded against Wilbur's back.  
  
"Yeah, dunno why they're there, but they are. I have no idea what she did, but Phil just shrugged and said Kristin can't really put us back without them. Oh, and he's here, by the way. I didn't want to leave you for too long, so he's off getting food and stuff." Wilbur sighed, elbow planted against the bed, leaning his face into his palm to keep an eye on Tommy.

"Who th' hell is Kristin?" Tommy grumbled, voice coming through better with awareness to the waking world.  
  
"Ah, she goes by that, but her actual moniker is Lady Death. You've met her, you just don't remember. We all have. Me and Phil probably know her best, we remember. All angels do, apparently." Wilbur shrugged.  
  
"You are no fuckin' angel, Wilbur. Devil, maybe." Tommy snorted, eyebrows furrowed.  
  
"Ouch, okay, I deserve that I guess." Wilbur laughed softly, and Tommy scrutinized his face.  
  
Wilbur let him, blue eyes roving over his features, his attitude, everything, before he sniffled.  
  
"You're really back, right? Not crazy or nothin', or s-suicidal, or mean, yeah?" Tommy asked quietly, voice trembling.  
  
"Yeah, I'm really back. I had a lot of time to think in the void, and I am so, _so_ sorry for what happened. I think my mind just... _broke_ , under all that stress. I couldn't take it anymore, Toms. It felt like the whole world was against me, crushing me like a tidal wave, and no matter who reached out or how much I swam, I couldn't get out. So I wanted it to end." Wilbur replied softly, holding Tommy's hand and smiling gently as the teen started to cry again.

"You stupid bitch, about fuckin' time you came back. I missed you, dammit!" Tommy wailed, rolling over and headbutting into his brother for the fifteenth time, it felt like.  
  
"Yeah, I missed you too, Tommy. I promise, I'm not goin' away for a long time." Wilbur said, patting the teen's head.  
  
They could deal with the anxious people waiting to see him later.  
  
Dream was on his last life, and according to Techno, crippled and trapped in the prison. Ranboo was getting help about his enderwalk state, Phil had promised to teach Wilbur all he knew on being a fallen angel, and for now, Tommy was safe, and that was all that currently mattered.  
  
Wilbur was Tommy's Guardian Angel now, and he was going to do his damn best to make sure he did his fucking job _right_.

* * *

(Elsewhere, two men laugh and jeer, playing poker, while an equally entertained lady landed herself a royal straight flush and happily claims the bottle of whiskey put up to bet.  
  
She has eternity to wait, all things come to Death in time. She has no hurry for children to come to her, she'll see them again. Hopefully not for a long, long time. Even her lovely angels will end up back with her someday, after all...  
  
She is Death, and she is a patient woman.)

**Author's Note:**

> Make the content you wanna see in the world motherfuckers, this idea bothered me so much I decided to write my only fic ever for this goddamn server, I got attached ok? Give me Good Bro Wilbur and Wingfic and I'm happy, aight? Also Feral Wilbur, that's nice too. Hope ya liked it bc I refuse to make more! Unless this becomes an AU. 
> 
> Also, Momza as Death was from another fic I don't remember the name of, but I liked the idea so I incorporated it here. Hope they don't mind :/
> 
> Should I make more though? Big ol' question there, good luck convincing me.
> 
> Edit: I'm making art. Why am I like this. Welp, expect an image added to here in a day or two.
> 
> Second Edit: Bitch I made my own art because nobody said I couldn't.  
> https://tokyoteddywolf.tumblr.com/post/644704756663828480/what-you-didnt-deserve-tokyoteddywolf


End file.
